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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29564907">Clean Up In Cell "Sexy"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfflock/pseuds/wolfflock'>wolfflock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Flirting, Cleaning, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, I honestly have no idea how to tag this, M/M, because Stiles is a bad boy, if you squint hard you see it, manual labor as punishment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:07:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29564907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfflock/pseuds/wolfflock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As part of the Spring Cleaning fic exchange, Joohlia asked for "Starrish - Stiles has to clean out the holding cells as part of a grounding." </p><p>I have absolutely no idea how to make cleaning unhygienic spots appealing, so this is all I could manage. XD Hope you like it :3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Stiles Shipping Central Ficlet Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Clean Up In Cell "Sexy"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/luulapants/gifts">luulapants</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s 8am when Stiles walks into the precinct, water bottle and a granola bar rattling around in his backpack, following his dad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Sheriff doesn’t say anything, just throws his keys on his desk, hangs his jacket by the door and turns to Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> might not be saying anything, but his eyebrows (very angry, still) are speaking volumes. He just lifts his arm and points in the direction of the holding cells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quickly nodding, so he won’t be yelled at, Stiles places his backpack on one of the chairs and makes his way out of the Sheriff’s office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fresh as a daisy, opening windows outside the cells, is Stiles’ favorite deputy, Jordan Parrish. His uniform is hugging his strong muscles beautifully, and Stiles - holding his breath, trying hard to keep as quiet as possible - takes a moment (or ten) to appreciate the view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is just ridiculous,” he exclaims, startling the deputy. “I'm 18! Who even gets grounded at 18?! Anyway. Good morning, Jordan. But still, dude, why is this even a punishment? It surely can't be that bad. I've helped Scott out at the clinic, and let me tell you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was bad."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Morning, Stiles. And it's Saturday."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, and...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As in, the day after Friday...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks horrified. "No. Nonononono. Please, tell me that doesn't mean what I think you mean."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jordan smirks at him, all smug. "Yup," he pops the </span>
  <em>
    <span>p </span>
  </em>
  <span>and points at the cell behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fffuuudge..." Stiles intones when he is led through the door. There's vomit, blood and... other disgusting bodily fluids everywhere. How does one puke at an angle like that to get puke on the damn lamp!?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it,” Jordan sighs. “Why are you here, anyway?” He turns around and hands rubber gloves, kitchen towels, some bleach and soap to Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad caught Scott and I sneaking around the Preserve past curfew… again,” Stiles sighs, and starts pouring bleach everywhere.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>After more than an hour of quiet work, Stiles looks at Jordan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let me tell you, elbow deep in gunk isn't exactly how I imagined our first date to go," Stiles blurts out, surprising himself. He glances at Jordan, whose eyes are bugging out of his head and he's got a gorgeous pink shade spreading across his cheeks. All smugness gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I... ummm...," Jordan coughs lightly, eyebrows furrowing, "would grabbing some police station coffee, or vending machine cappuccino make it more like a date?" he asks nervously, his rubber gloves squeaking against his thighs as he anxiously rubs his hands against his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shoots a huge grin at Jordan, whose face immediately lightens up, a slow smile stretching his lovely lips wide. "Only if you buy me some vending machine pastry as well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jordan laughs at that, shakes his head, and looks up through his eyelashes, as he winks at Stiles. "Deal."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go back to scrubbing and spraying the cells in companionable silence until the Sheriff calls for them, announcing their lunch break.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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